“Your favorite is supreme. I figured that’s what you ordered.”
“First, damn, you were obsessed with me. Second, why are shocked that I ordered your favorite instead? Why would I not get what you like?”
“I’m shocked you know my favorite. We’ve never had pizza together. How do you know?”
“You’re being nosy again. Mind your business. One episode.”
He changes the subject and selects season one, episode one. I’m still touched by his efforts to be considerate. I’m stuck smiling while staring at his profile as the episode starts.
“I hope you didn’t stare at me with a goofy smile when you were younger. No, I’m glad I didn’t see it. I would have laughed at you for sure.”
“Shut up,” I giggle and bite into the best pizza on the island because not only did he get my favorite toppings, he ordered it from my favorite place. “You are a softie, Oran,” I tease with a peck to his cheek.
He pauses the show and stares at me for a beat while he plucks the rest of the pineapples off his slice, then wipes the sauce off his lips. After he swallows, he responds to my observation.
“Keep saying shit like that and you’ll be on the air mattress again.”
Chapter 24
Karessa
Overall, this could be the best vacation ever. The Amalfi Coast is beautiful. I’ve felt peace from the moment we arrived yesterday. Oran and I are still coexisting peacefully, it’s a beautiful change of scenery, and Ainslee and Jagger are funny when they’re not fucking. Which is often and why this can’t be the best vacation ever. It’s not their fault they’re in love and are stinking cute with each other. Hell, that’s not even the problem. It’s hearing them go at it and pretending I don’t notice it while being snuggled next to the sexiest man in the world.
Damn the smaller queen bed, his sexy yet still clothed body, and the soundtrack from the Hanlons. It’s not really them; it’s the reminder of what I’m not getting and can’t get for a few more months. If I were a man, I’d have permanent blue balls.
It’s late, but I can’t sleep. Once Oran fell asleep, and the Hanlons passed out, I grabbed my robe and snuck out of the room. We have our own balcony with a beautiful view, but I’m also thirsty.
I’m happy when I don’t run into any of Ainslee’s men because I don’t feel like navigating small talk. I retrieve a glass of wine from the kitchen then move outside to the lower balcony to catch a breeze and watch the inky waves. It’s peaceful, even with my hormonal turmoil.
I want Oran, but I want him on my terms. It gets harder every day. The more time we spend with each other, the more of him I want sexually and emotionally. I’m happy to know he wants me and plans to stay with me, but I also need to erase the last drop of doubt that the prenup creates first.
Warm hands grip my shoulders but I don’t panic because I instinctively know who it is. Oran pulls my back to his chest, wraps an arm around my waist, then rests his chin atop of my head.
“Couldn’t sleep?” He asks as he plucks my wine from my hand to take a sip.
“No. I’m supposed to share a bed with a big sexy man I can’t touch while his best friend fucks the hell out of his wife every chance he gets.”
Oran’s low, sexy chuckle vibrates against my back as his hand unties my robe.
“You can touch me, Trophy…” his hand slides under my silky camisole and his thumb teases my belly. “But you’d have to be willing to accept the consequences.”
“I bet you’d like that,” I tease since it’ll solidify our prenup.
“To make love to my wife on our honeymoon? I’m sure that’s every man’s goal.”
I know who I am to him, but hearing him say it makes my heart flutter. Plus, Oran calling sex ‘making love’ makes my knees weak. I know he wants to get along, but that doesn’t mean he’s falling for me.
“Uh, huh.” I have nothing.
Oran’s returns the glass and his hands find my shoulder, kneading them, his thumbs pressing into the nape of my neck. My eyes close, and my head falls forwarding.
“Feels good, Trophy?”
“Yes.” I practically moan my answer because the massage is getting good.
“You’re tense. How about instead of focusing on what we can’t do, we enjoy what we can do?”
“Like what?”